War Begets Mistrust
by Noobycakes
Summary: How could this have happened? Ieyasu thought as he stared down his once good friend. Motochika, why must it be this way? Death, R&R.


**A/N: This is an ending from the Sengoku Basara: Samurai Kings game ^_^**

As either man stared at one another, waiting for the first strike that would set things into motion, each thought back. Back to when they still called each other friends and allies, and how they had come to this deadly conflict.

The man in purple brought his chained anchor into an offensive position.

"Motochika, I don't understand. Why do you wish to kill me?" The other man in yellow clothes and wearing gauntlets asked.

"My home was attacked while I was away, and your banner flew above it! It's unforgivable! With your death, my crewman will be at peace." Motochika accused the man he once trusted, the man who betrayed him.

The accused, Ieyasu, took a step back in shock, bewilderment showed in his deep brown eyes. What? He thought. How could that have happened? I would never attack a dear friend, nor allow one of my generals to.

"I once thought you were my friend." Motochika continued. "I had the same ideals as you, but to what extent will you go to accomplish them!"

Ieyasu looked for a bit of the caring friend he once in that grey eye, but all he saw was seething anger that could only be assuaged with his own death. I don't believe I did it. Ieyasu thought sadly. He stayed silent, knowing how his friends mind worked, and, if by some slim chance, Motochika's comrade's could find peace in his death, he would gladly accept the burden.

"Come then," Ieyasu said, getting into a defensive stance with his fists before him and legs spread out. "Let your comrades sleep in peace."

"Ieyasu!" Motochika yelled as he leapt forward, swinging his Seven Seas Anchor.

Ieyasu held his fists up, parrying so the anchor slammed into the ground. Though it was a glancing hit, Ieyasu felt his hands go numb. Anger really gave Motochika a great amount of strength, too bad he had to be on the receiving end.

Ieyasu drew back a fist, not letting a second pass, and thrust forward; aiming for Motochika's scarred face. Motochika dodged to the side, barely avoiding the other man's fist, and kicked out. He was rewarded with a jolt of his foot connected with the solid mass of Ieyasu's stomach, but Ieyasu brished it off with a slight grunt. Ieyasu threw another fist, and landed his first hit on his friend.

On and on the battle waged, until Motochika spun his anchor and, using the momentum, slammed it into a winded Ieyasu, smashing him into a nearby boulder.

Ieyasu let out a yell of pain and slunk to the ground in a sitting position holding his midsection, his back propped up against the rock. He had no strength to get back up, and felt his life ebbing away quickly from all his injuries.

Motochika, also heavily winded, thrust the tip of his Seven Seas Anchor into the ground, and used it to hold himself up in a standing position as he faced his dying friend.

"Is your anger assuaged?" Ieyasu asked, blinking his eyes to clear the encroaching darkness.

Motochika did not answer. The pirate had fought through all his anger, and now he felt empty, but he couldn't let this back stabber know that.

"Your comrades will be at peace now." Ieyasu smiled weakly. He coughed for a minute, and then caught his breath again. He used what little strength he had left to hold out a hand towards the man he still considered his friend, and said, "Remember me. Not as how you think of me now, but as how we were in the past, as friends." Ieyasu pleaded, now unable to see anything. He thought, for a moment, that if Motochika could grasp his hand, they both would be saved in the end, but his wish was left unmet.

Ieyasu breathed his last breath, and his hand fell limply and heavily to the ground with a thud.

Motochika brought a hand to his face as silent tears began to fall steadily.

**A/N: For those who haven't played it, Mori Put Ieyasu's banner there, as to manipulate Motochika, and succeeded in this ending.**


End file.
